


Sins of Ice and Fire

by stormbornbxtch



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Aunt/Nephew Incest, Background Relationships, Bittersweet, F/F, F/M, Incest, M/M, Minor Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Minor Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Minor Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Minor Sansa Stark/Podrick Payne, R Plus L Equals J, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, So Much Sexual Tension, cersei is redeemed in this, jaime and cersei has never happened, joffrey doesn't exist, just read it because it's so different from canon and they're aren't enough tags for this, loosely based on The Borgias, minor cersei lannister/rhaegar targaryen - Freeform, minor cersei lannister/robert baratheon - Freeform, minor myrcella baratheon/trystane martell - Freeform, minor rhaegar targaryen/elia martell, none of her kids die, rhaegar is not dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2019-10-24 21:15:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17711690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormbornbxtch/pseuds/stormbornbxtch
Summary: "I am drawn to you Jon, every fiber in my being screams at me to have you. I yearn for you like I do the air in my lungs, I crave you and it's like poison seeping into my soul knowing that I will never have what I desire the most. Isn't it cruel? For the gods to gift us with these emotions for the one we can never truly have.""It is not a gift Dany, simply a curse that we are burdened to endure for the rest of our time in this cruel world. "WARNING: UNEDITED, PLEASE EXCUSE THE FEW GRAMMATICAL ERRORS PRESENT





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> ****  
>  _Suggested Chapter Song: She Remembers by Max Hitchers_   
> 

 

[Sins of Ice and Fire Cover Image](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161441232@N05/46309332254/in/dateposted-public/)

 

She watched closely, eyes studying the scene as it unfolded in front of her. She couldn’t help it,  he moved so gracefully beneath the sheets and Daenerys bit her lip.

 

Jon’s back flexed as he moved within the woman beneath him. His hips moved slow and  earnestly and Daenerys felt a pulse through her body straight to her core. She wanted to stop, she felt as if it were an intrusion on his privacy in some way. To watch him and the girl he had brought home from the pub earlier like this, in a moment were they were so...closely aquainted.  She hadn’t even meant to spy on him.

 

Her brother, Rhaegar would be home soon and looking for his son as soon as he returned from his meeting with Queen Cersei.  He’d written in his letter that he’d be home by mid-day within a fortnight when he left them a few moons ago. According to Lady Margarey, that was exactly a fortnight ago and he should be returning by the afternoon. Daenery guessed within the hour and she just wanted to warn her nephew of it beforehand. A simple reminder was all it was, all it was supposed to be at least.

 

Maybe a chance to sneak up and scare him like she used when they were children. She always loved his reactions.

 

She didn’t foresee this though, something as intimate as this affair between Jon and his latest conquest was not something she intended to view. Not in the slightest.

 

She was the second girl she’d seen in the past three days slip into Jon’s chambers, it was like he was out to prove something to all of Dragonstone. Jon Targaryen, the man with the most lovers in all the realm. She smiled at that knowing that he would be amused if she ever made that statement to his face.

 

This time when she interrupted, it was on something much more private and passionate than the positions she usually found him in before. Then again she had never found him like this, in this state of physical vulnerability.  So undone from the usual tight wound man she knew.

 

Normally, Jon would be skimming over a book from his father’s study or writing some kind of poem or sonnet, the kind she had always found incredibly romantic. Or at least she had until he caught her reading over them and quickly snatched his leather bound journal from her hands. She had never seen him so angry especially since there was nothing to be embarrassed of. He was a gifted writer, a way with words and she found them impossibly beautiful.

 

She wondered if he mouthed the words into the ears of his lovers as they merged as one. She hadn’t read his words in so long, he had learned to keep them hidden from her after that. It was a shame, she missed reading his thoughts. She found his mind heavily intriguing and it’s not like he truly let her into his mind nowadays.

 

Her favorite position to find him in was one where he was lost in his creative mindset. Especially when he painted or wrote, she was fascinated by it. Absolutely fascinated by it. The way his eyes ran over the canvas, the way his hands moved with the brush. The way he wrote with urgency,  smudging ink against his fingers as his hands traveled down the parchment.

 

He was beautiful like that and beautifully furious whenever he caught her staring. Its not like Daenerys could help it however, and he would never understand because he had never had the pleasure of witnessing him like that. Only she did.

 

She remembered being completely entranced with him at one moment, and then his eyes flickered up and caught sight of her. His cheeks turned red with embarrassment and he yelled at her for not respecting his boundaries. Jon chased her through the gardens until her legs gave out from laughing so hard and running so fast that day. She’d by lying if she had said it wasn’t one of her favorite days with him.

 

The punishment was worth the crime she supposed, she hated being tickled but when Jon did it, she didn’t mind. She almost enjoyed it. The gentle strength in his fingertips, just enough to reduce her to giggles but not enough to make her uncomfortable. Jon never failed to make things, even the things she could not stand, just right.

 

She figured he’d see this as an intrusion on his boundaries too, especially when he was in such a...raw state. She wanted to look away, be a better housemate but her eyes didn’t leave his back as he moved. Gentle violets scanning over the smooth muscles of his exposed skin.

 

He groaned, an angelic sound emitting from the lips she couldn’t see and Daenerys caught her bottom lip between her teeth. A rush filled her veins, she had never heard a man sound so...consumed by something before.  So utterly lost in another person, she had never even thought Jon could be like this.

 

The girl whined a high pitched noise, like a dog in heat and Daenerys cringed. If only she could tune the girl out somehow.  Guilt flooded through her system, she shouldn’t be thinking such thoughts. Not when the girl was supposed to be here and she wasn’t.

 

She should leave, she should.

 

Unfortunately, the urge to do so was so much weaker than the urge to stay and watch things as they evolved.  She could only see his back from this angle but she didn’t mind. Seeing the way it moved, so languidly but with so much intensity, it made her stomach flutter a bit. It made her wonder what it must’ve felt like. To dance they way the two of them were dancing in their most ribald forms.

 

She wanted to dance like this, with someone who seemed to know how.  Who seemed wonderful and purposeful in their actions.

Someone like Jon.

 

She breathed in sharply as the girl cried out over and over again. His name a desperate prayer on her lips as she fell to pieces. Jon buried himself in her neck as his thrusts grew sloppier, less precise.  

 

Daenerys leaned up, biting down hard enough on her lip to draw blood. She wanted to see his face somehow, was it as beautiful as it normally was? Was it more so when he came undone like this?

 

Daenerys reached on her tiptoes, flats digging into the groove on the wall from where she had balanced herself to get a look in the first place. She should’ve been more careful, paid more attention as she lost her footing and came spiraling down. Her foot knocked over the porcelain vase Elia had filled with Orchids before she and Rhaegar departed, a loud crash sounding throughout the empty estate as it fell.

 

Daenerys swore under her breath as fear flooded through her being, her eyes widened like saucers as she registered what she had done. Quickly, her gaze flickered back through the window, only to see Jon standing in front of her, breeches pulled over his legs as his grey eyes stared right back at her. She stood frozen as his eyebrows raised in confusion and then realization and finally, anger.

 

“Dany” he growled out lowly and she breathed in sharply, turning away from him and hopping down from the wall. She ran as fast as her feet would carry her in a dress like this. She shouldn’t have worn a corset today, she knew she would regret it. She barely made it down the hall before she heard his bare footsteps bounding after her.  She cried out, a mix of nervous laughter and fear as she hiked up her skirts and ran towards the gardens.

 

“Daenerys.” He yelled after her to which she only replied with a laugh. She glanced back at him only for a second, he was much closer than she originally assumed. Her heartbeat quickened as she reached the granite stairs, she glanced back to see him only to find he was hot on her heels as she tumbled down the steps. Loose blonde hair bouncing behind her.

 

She barely reached the gentle white petals of the daisies before Jon’s arm snaked itself around her waist, lifting her into the air as a shriek of laughter spilled from her lips. Her chest tightened as she did so, pure undeniable flooded through her.

 

Jon smiled lazily as he spun her around, losing his footing slightly only to stumble to the ground just between the rose bushes. Daenerys’s back pressed against him as he let out another groan. One of pain instead of pleasure this time.

 

“My apologies Snow.” Daenerys breathed out, flipping herself over and off him so that her elbow lied next to his face. Pressing her own up so she could get a good look at him. Her dress would surely have grass stains from this but at the moment, she felt too elated to care. Elia and Rhaenys weren’t around anymore to scold her for her improper ways as a lady, she missed her niece and sister in law. Although she was more than a few years younger than them both, she had always felt more like a Elia’s own child and Rhaenys’s younger sister than what she actually was to them. Her true mother, Rhaella passed away during her birth and her father shortly after when pirates ransacked his ships and threw ih all men who survived their initial raid overboard where they drowned.

 

It was alright however, well not really but Daenerys had a family. A mother in Elia and a father in Rhaegar, even if they were absent most of the time. She especially had a family within Jon, he’d always protect her and he loved her enough to the point where she never truly felt alone. She’d always have Jon and he would always have her.

 

He was all she really needed.

 

Jon sighed heavily, hard grey eyes turning to meet her soft violet.

 

“No you’re not Storm, no you’re not.” He mumbled. Daenerys smiled playfully at the use of her nickname and the humor in his tone, he could never be too angry with her and she was grateful for it.

 

He still had a thin glimmer of sweat covering his chest from his previous activities and under the midday sun, they seemed to glisten like diamonds as he lied there. He closed his eyes for a moment,  thick black curls surrounding his head like a halo. Daenerys thought he looked like an angel then anything she had ever seen or that moment, or the closest thing this world would ever know to one.

 

His beard had grown thicker, less stubbly and fuller in the past few months. Absentmindedly, her right hand moved to his chin, tracing over the gentle hairs that covered it. She quite liked him like this as opposed to the stuffy clean shaven boy he had been just a year before. It made him seem a bit wilder than he actually was.

 

In that moment, Daenerys realized she had no idea if that were true or not. Maybe he looked just as wild as he was, she assumed there were some things family should never know about one another. Maybe it was possible she had only ever seen him tame.

 

“You’re right. I’m not, who is she?” She questioned, and Jon sighed, eyes opening once again as he sat up. Daenerys adjusted her hand so she didn’t have to stop tracing his jawline at the sudden movement.

 

“Just a girl from the pub.” He told her and she nodded, bottom lip between her teeth as she took in his words. They were always ‘just a girl from the pub’, especially since Rhaegar had put in Jon’s head that he was a man now. She guessed in order to prove a man’s worht, he had to consummate with as many women in the village as humanly possible.

 

“I suppose she is, I wonder _nephew_ , how many girls from the pub have you brought into our home so far this week?” She asked, false superiority laced in her tone as her fingers traced down his neck.  Jon rolled his eyes at her word choice.

 

“Well, _aunt_ , you seem to forget that that is none of your business and despite our relation-” he moved swiftly, throwing off her balance and composure so her that back hit the ground with a thud. She frowned as he leaned over her, grey eyes locking with her own. For a moment, just a moment, she could feel her breath hitch and a dull ache, like the one earlier,  pulse in between her thighs. Her breathing grew a bit heavier as she felt his own ghost over her lips.

 

Once again, she found her teeth applying pressure to her bottom lip as she stared up at him. He truly must’ve had the most beautiful eyes in the world.

 

“-I am still older than you.” He muttered out with a cocky grin and whatever Daenerys had felt in that moment washed away as she rolled her eyes, shoving him off her. Jon laughed, the stupidly endearing sound that brought a slight grin to her face as she stood and hurried away from him. She could feel her cheeks flush but she ignored it, assuming it was her anger and pride getting the best of her once again. She made her way up the steps, ignoring his laughter as she did so. He was a dick when he wanted to be.

 

As she made her way down the familiar hallway, she caught sight of the girl from earlier who was now fully clothed. Her hair was strikingly red, like fire and she had these haunted eyes that took Daenerys by surprise. This woman, whoever she was, had seen things in her life and Daenerys could’ve sworn she saw her just yesterday.

 

Maybe Jon wasn’t as big of a pig that she assumed he was.

 

Daenerys mumbled a greeting to which the girl replied with a brief tight lipped smile before making her way towards the gardens. She found herself stopping, turning to watch the red haired girl make her way to the gardens where Jon was most likely still laughing to himself. Maybe this woman was nice, maybe even good. Yet Daenerys wondered if she was just as nice as Jon, just as good. If she deserved him at all.

 

Slowly she turned back around and then down the corner towards her rooms, bringing her hand up to the door knob and she froze. She hadn’t realized it was shaking until now, nor had she realized the erratic beating of her heart as it hammered against her chest. Daenerys pressed a hand to her sternum, turning to lie against the door.  

 

Her hands felt clammy and her chest tightened uncomfortably as she struggled to regain composure. Her fingertips, they burned from where she had touched Jon and she could feel her cheeks heat at the memory. Her stomach flipping in its place.

 

This was new, this reaction that is. She breathed in deeply, finding some kind of control over her body before turning around and entering her rooms. The door slammed shut behind her and Daenerys jumped at the sound.

 

She peered around her chambers, she was alone. No gossiping maids to be found, no one to bring her out of her all consuming thoughts and emotions. Heat rushing through her body like an ocean current, pooling itself between her legs. Confusion clouded her mind at the desperate need she felt for pressure,  for relief.

 

Hesitantly, she slipped off her dress. Standing in front of the mirror as she loosened her corset and watched as it fell to her feet. She stared at herself, taking in her appearance. Her hair was long enough to reach the curve of her back now, she had started getting her monthly a few summers ago and since then, she had developed in certain areas.

 

Elia told her it was just a part of aging, that she was becoming a woman now yet she rarely felt like one. Her left hand moved to trace over the curve of her bosom gently while her right traveled down her stomach and to her hips. Child bearing hips, that’s what Elia had called them.

 

She found her left hand wondering from the side of her breast, towards the bottom center where the hardened nub lied. A gentle sensation coursed through her and straight to her core.

 

Daenerys bit her lips at the feeling to keep herself quiet. Slowly, she turned to her bed. A little unsure of herself as she climbed into the sheets. Once comfortable, she stayed there, tracing over the sensitive nubs of her breast and clenching her thighs at the prickle of feeling. She had never thought to touch her body like this, to explore it in the way she was taught only a man was supposed to.

 

She had never wanted to either, that is, until now. Her curiosity had peeked suddenly and her desire was stronger than ever before.  

 

Her gaze flickered to the ceiling, intricately painted angels stared down at her and she stared up at them. Her gaze never faltered as her hand retreated lower to the insatiable ache between her legs. Daenerys gasped at the pressure of her hands against her core. She dipped her hand into her under garments, resting her delicate fingers on the irritated little bundle of feeling.

 

Then she moved, forcing a gentle  pad against it. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying out at the contact.  

 

She had been told all her life to hold herself as a lady and for the most she had. She knew that an instance like this would be seen as improper of her but she couldn’t deny herself this. Not now. She needed to be this intimate with herself in the moment and a part of her felt guilty for relieving the ache. Yet the guilt was nothing compared to the relief. Nothing at all.

 

She breathed rapidly as she moved against it, eyes widening a little with the pressure against her womanhood. Her soft fingertips traced intricate circles over and over again. This time, when she bit her lip it was to silence herself.

 

It felt good, this felt good.

 

Her legs spread themselves a little wider and Daenerys whined at the new feeling of access. A cool breeze rushed through her room and she shuddered, screwing her eyes shut as her hand increased its pace. She could taste ocean’s salt on her tongue, smell the sea from the windows above but she didn’t dare pay attention to it. This, and only this were what she could focus on.

 

An intruding question disrupted her mind, an inquiry that should’ve made her stop. But it didn’t, not even in the slightest.

 

Was this what Jon felt when he danced with the women from the pubs? Is this what they felt?  

 

A pulse of pleasure surged through her body at the notion, memories of Jon’s bare back shifting in the sunlight filled her mind and she urged her fingertips to move faster, harder. The exposed chest she hadn’t paid much attention to as he chased her flashed through her mind and a moan escaped her lips. Warmth flooded through her as images of Jon raced through her consciousness, of his arms, this eyes, he feel of him pressed against her whenever they embraced and his laugh. The melodic sound she loved.

 

Just him, all that he was consumed in the moment.

 

A violent flutter filled her as the thought, something bubbled beneath the surface of her body and she was desperate to discover it. She rubbed and rubbed, thoughts of Jon never once leaving her mind as she did so. Like a volcano threatening to erupt, the feeling within her was extreme and demanded her attention. She didn’t stop, how could she? She was so close to the discovery that her body craved earnestly.  

 

The recollection of Jon smiling down at her from above just minutes ago filled her thoughts and suddenly, she was floating. Erupting into the sky like a dragon taking flight and Daenerys’s mind went blank as her body went limp, surrendering itself to the blinding pleasure that flowed through it.

 

Jon’s name fell from her tongue like a desperate prayer as she did so, her mind going hazy as the waves washed over her being.  

 

When she finally floated back down to earth, another feeling quickly took place of the urgent desire.

 

Shame.

 

She had said Jon’s name in the same way the fire haired girl had, she had thought of him in the same countless others had. She shouldn’t have. She just shouldn’t.

 

She pulled her hand away and on shaky legs rose from the bed and to her bathing chambers.  The maid must’ve left her pot of water, Daenerys reached for it and her cloth and scrubbed at her hands. Feeling warm wetness of guilt and chagrin roll down her flushed cheeks for what she had just done.

 

An unjust act with unjust thoughts about someone she should have never, ever thought of like that. Never.

 

She knew, deep down what she had just done was wrong. In every sense of the word but, it had felt, so natural. Almost like the angels on her ceiling were blessing it as it occured.

 

How could something that had felt so good in the moment feel so mortifying when it ended?

 

She scrubbed viscously on the skin until her hand was burning bright red with a stinging pain coursing through it. When she returned to her rooms, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Tear stained and vulnerable, she knew that what she had just done was a sin, she knew it. It would change things in her mind from now on and she was not sure it was for the best.

 

How could something so...innate feel so immoral in the aftermath?

 

She promised herself she’d never do it again, that this was just an urge of the flesh and she had only succumbed to in a weakened state and only for a brief moment. Just this once and never again, she swore it. She could never, she would never think of Jon like again either. It was his name that had left a sick taste in her mouth. His memory that had given her such wicked pleasure.

 

And it had felt so, so good.  So fulfilling for the small amount of time that it lasted.

 

But she’d keep her word to herself, she must, it was the only thing to do. The only thing she could do. She wiped at the stains on her cheeks and quickly pulled her dress back on, deciding the corset was unnecessary.

 

She hadn’t told Jon about his father coming home, the thought slip her mind with all that had happened.  He still needed to know and the woman who he had shared the night with couldn’t be here when Rhaegar returned.

 

He deserved to be warned and she wouldn’t shun him for her own depraved actions. She could practically hear the gods, old and new, laughing at her vile act of human folly.

 

She sighed before opening the doors to her chambers, she stopped herself before she could completely wander out. Daenerys looked back at her bed, the sheets were messy, she would need the cleaned.

 

Perhaps it’d be better to have new ones made, sleeping within the same ones where she had conducted her transgression made her stomach churn.

 

The sound of horses galloping in the distance caught her attention and Daenerys swore under her breath, she needed to hurry so she could give word of Rhaegar’s arrival. The less she concerned herself with it, the easier it would be to face him. She had to face him.

 

With that, she slipped out of her room shutting the wooden door behind her. She took a deep breath and held her head high before turning the corner of the hall, forcing her thoughts of what had just occurred with each step she took towards Jon.

 

Her Jon.

  



	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Targaryen family receives troubling news, Jon and Dany comfort one another.

 

[Sins of Ice and Fire Chp. 2](https://flic.kr/p/SFEJAQ)

 

Elia was dying.

 

The woman who had taken him as her own, raised him like a son even though he was the product of his father’s own indiscretion. The woman who he called mother. The woman who was his mother.

 

She was dying.

 

She had fallen ill while in King’s Landing and Jon was losing his mother to an enemy he could not fight. Disease.

 

It didn’t truly make sense in his head, she had seemed so herself at last night’s dinner. How could she be...how could she be dying?

 

“Rhaenys and Aegon should be getting word soon. They’ll be joining us in the estate in a few days with their children, to spend as much time with her as they can-” Rhaegar choked on his words and Jon felt a pang in his heart at the action. His father was a lot of things but Jon had never witnessed him like this, he had always maintained his composure and equanimity. Always.

 

Rhaegar Targaryen was not a man who cried openly, who let the world in on his suffering. Yet here they were and he was trying desperately not to fall apart in front of his youngest son.

 

“Forgive me son. I mean, before she passes.” Rhaegar finished and Jon could do nothing but stare as his father as his fist tightened to regain control of his emotions. He wanted to say something, move to comfort him but he couldn't. He stood there, frozen as he tried to somehow grasp the words that were just spoken to him.

 

“She's resting in our bed now, she needs as much of that as she can possibly get. Her nurses our tending to her as we speak and the king's own doctor traveled with us but even with all this” he trailed off, deep violet eyes trained on the mahogany wood of the table in front of him.

 

Jon could feel his eyes start to burn, his face begin to fall, he could feel the stirring of a future loss within him as silence enveloped the room.

 

“Even with that, the doctor believes she'll only have weeks to live. Months if the gods are merciful.” Rhaegar told him, voice tight and raw. He finally looking up to face his son and the sight only broke Jon's heart even more.

 

His eyes were red from crying and dark circles were edged into the skin beneath his eyes like cattle brandings. Jon could feel a tear slip down his cheek but he didn't dare move to wipe it away. His body wouldn’t let him, nor would his mind.

 

Elia was dying.

 

His mother was dying.

 

The words didn't seem real even though he had just heard them fall from his father's lips. Rhaegar never lied and he never would, especially about something like this.

 

“She wishes, she wishes for a party.” The words caught Jon off guard as his gaze moved up to look at his father, confusion etched onto his features.

 

“A party?” Jon questioned and Rhaegar did the unexpected in a time like this, he laughed. A bitter unfiltered laugh that relieved his son to hear. At least his father hadn’t completely shut down.

 

“That's exactly what I said.” He said, smiling at him and Jon couldn't help the small one that spread across his lips in reply.

 

“But yes, yes she does. She doesn't want people to mourn her, she wants them to celebrate the life she has. She wants people to feel joy for what her life was, not pity her because it’s ending. She wants it to be an occasion full of light, love and happiness.” Rhaegar explained, smiling  a little to himself as a few stray tears streamed down his cheeks.

 

“Just like her to want to make everyone feel immense joy while she suffers intensely.”

 

It was true. His mother, she always tried to spread kindness no matter where she was. Truly one of the best souls that ever walked this earth, the only person who even remotely reminded him of her light was Daenerys. Somehow, Elia had spread the need to see people smile and feel joy onto her. Jon’s smile widened at the thought.

 

“She wants it to be grand. A celebration for all those she loves-”

 

“Mother loves a lot of people and there are even more who love her.” He interrupted and Rhaegar laughed again, nodding in agreement.

 

“She does, if it were up to her we'd invite the entire seven kingdoms for such an event” He joked halfheartedly and Jon offered only a weak smile in reply.

 

“She wants Lady Sansa to plan it.” Rhaegar told him and Jon could feel his chest tighten at the name. There was only one well known Lady Sansa in the kingdoms, he had only met her once when they were children but even that had been too much. He asked the question anyway, even though he already knew the answer.

 

“Of House Stark?” He forced out through gritted teeth.

 

“I believe it’s of House Payne now but yes, it is the Lady Sansa you are thinking of. I have already sent word to Winterfell about it.” Jon could feel anger rising in his throat like bile at his father’s words. How dare he send for the Starks?! Without even consulting him first?! Why would she want this?

 

“Why would Elia do this?”

 

Rhaegar looked over at his son, his expression remorseful before he sighed heavily. “Her reasoning is that she believes Sansa is the best event planner in all the kingdoms, especially after she attended the wedding of she and Lord Podrick's two summers ago.” His father informed him but Jon knew better than to believe that that was the only explanation.

 

“It’s not the only reason is it?” Jon stated as if it was a question and Rhaegar shook his head, indifferent to the resentment he could see rising within him.

 

“I don't believe it is, no. Elia is a woman of many things but peace is above them all. She's always wanted to you to have a bond with your mother's family and-”

 

“But I do not.” Jon proclaimed, voice cold and detached.

 

Rhaegar pinched the bridge of his nose, irritation rising at his son's stubbornness.

 

“Jon, she invited the entire house to stay in Dragonstone until her funeral. It doesn’t matter whether you wish to be acquainted with your mother’s family or not, you will be. Until Elia’s...until her funeral.”

 

His father finished and despite the urge he had to release his anger, he held back.

 

Jon didn’t know much of his birth mother besides the fact that she had died bringing him in to this world. From the stories his father told him every once in awhile, he knew she was beautiful, kind and smart. Rhaegar crossed paths with her during the great war against King Nicholas of  The North and his faithful white walkers.

 

His marriage to Elia was not one of choice and despite her bearing him two children, his love for her was not as strong as it should’ve been. But Lyanna had been different. Apparently, he fell in love with her in a single night and she him. She was betrothed to a man who she did not love and who did not love her. Rhaegar however, had stolen her heart before she could stop it.

 

Marriages of circumstance.

 

Love of fate.

 

That’s how Daenerys used to put it when they were children, before she fully understand what their love had amounted to it.

  
Jon was conceived in The North and Lyanna suffered greatly for it. Her house shunned her and Robert made it public spectacle to shaming her for her pregnancy and the annulment of their marriage. Only to marry Cersei Lannister within the week.

 

Rhaegar’s family had taken her in, despite Elia’s disdain for her at the time.

 

He knew she was a sad woman, abandoned by all she loved except one who she could never truly be with.

 

She died belonging to no house and no family. The only thing within her possession was Rhaegar’s heart and even that was slipping from her the more Elia and Rhaegar came to understand each other.

 

She died giving birth to him and Jon would never know of the lost lady of winterfell and her forgotten years in Dragonstone.

 

Her family made no effort to know him, Rhaegar had tried to hide it from him as a boy but Jon was a curious little thing who liked to wonder in his father’s study when he was off on his trips. He stumbled across letters from Winterfell, his father had written them about Jon returning to know his uncles and cousins one summer.

 

He received a rejection, House Stark wanted nothing to do with Jon Targaryen. They even called him a bastard child from a woman no longer recognized as a part of their house.

 

Jon knew he was one, Rhaegar and Elia would never say it but he feltl it in his bones. When he watched Rhaenys and Aegon stand off to the side when he was younger, conversing with their parent he felt it. No matter how much they tried to not make it obvious, he knew what it was.

 

Rhaegar had legitimized him when he was a child but Jon would never stop being his bastard in the eyes of the world.

 

“I know how you feel towards them but outside of Dragonstone, they are your only other family Jon.”

 

He wanted to protest but he didn’t know what he could say. He was right, unfortunately the fates were kind enough to let you choose your family.

 

“It is Elia’s dying wish. If not for them or yourself, do it for her.” Rhaegar told him, violet eyes staring daggers into his child.

 

All at once, Jon felt shame for his emotions. He was right. Elia had given Jon all that she could and he’d do anything for her. Including facing The Starks.

 

“Alright father. I will try, you have my word.”

 

Rhaegar smiled, grateful for his cooperation.

  
“Thank you son.”

 

Jon nodded before turning to walk away from his father and out of the study. He was still angry, he could feel bubbling within him but he could not be around his father when it finally showed its ugly head to the world. He was feeling a monumental amount of things, both anger and loss and frustration at the world and the cards he had been dealt.

 

He knew it could be worse but at the moment, his mind wasn’t letting him believe that.

 

“Jon.” He turned back to his father at the sound of his name.

 

“Don’t tell Daenerys.”

 

Why not? Why keep this from her?

 

“Not yet at least. Let me do it alright?” He asked and Jon nodded, understanding. She had already lost so much and losing Elia, it could kill her.

 

He turned away and walked out, closing the iron door behind im.  

His mind had barely registered his surroundings when Daenerys crashed into him.

 

Her eyes were red and full of unshed tears. Jon cursed himself, he should’ve known Dany would try to listen in like she always did. She was a curious girl with too many questions and he wasn’t sure the world had it’s answers. She was getting better at it, she had been doing it a lot less but sometimes her curiosity, it got the better of her.

 

And you know what they say? It killed the cat.

 

Tears streamed down her delicate face and Jon’s heart clenched, his hands moved to the sides of her arms in an effort to comfort her as best he could.

 

“Is it true? I-Is she dying?” Her voice was shaky and broken, like the grief had already begun to settle into her and Jon could feel it sinking into him, not just for his mother but for Daenerys as well. She was losing another parent, when would the world decide it had taken enough from her?

  
  


Jon didn’t know what to sar. His silence spoke volumes as Dany’s eyes widened in alarm, hand flying up to cover her mouth as her body shook. Instinctively Jon reached out, pulling her close to him before she could crumble to the ground.

 

Her sobs racked both their bodies as she fell into him. Jon held her close, rubbing her back comfortingly.

 

He could hear the door of Rhaegar’s study open behind him, his neck turned slightly to see his father.

 

When he moved closer, Jon shook his head slightly. He knew how to soothe her nerves, Rhaegar would just stir more pain in her.

 

His father nodded in understanding, stepping back and retreating into his room. He knew his son always had a way of making Daenerys feel better, feel safer than anyone of them could. The last time he tried to interfere, she screamed and cried and begged to go back to Jon.

 

Until finally, he let her. She was only twelve then but somehow she had preserved the childlike wonder and innocence over the years. Her feelings towards being comforted and who should probably hadn’t changed either.

 

Jon held her close, forcing back tears as he adjusted his grip. Moving one arm around her back and the other hooking underneath her knees. He lifted her into the air and she leaned into his chest as tear after tear fell from her eyes.

 

“Is it my fault Jon? Did I kill Elia like I killed my mother?”  She asked through her cries and Jon looked down at her, anger and anguish welling in his chest for a different reason than what it was there for minutes ago. His emotions kept him from speaking as he carried her off towards her rooms.

 

“Of course not little dragon, of course not.” He finally breathed out when he found the strength.

 

She wasn’t listening, or maybe she just didn’t want to. Her thoughts were irrational and she wasn’t making any sense.

 

“I destroy everyone I love Jon. I kill them and drive them away. What if I-what if i hurt you next? There’s no one I love more than you. What If I killed you like I killed my mother? Like Elia?”

 

The confession of love that spilled from her lips made his heart swell and the anger disappear but he didn’t speak on it. She was saying things she didn’t mean, thinking thoughts that weren’t practical in her state of hysteria. Still, with that knowledge, the warmth in his heart didn’t fade.

 

He pushed open the door to her chambers as she mumbled words he couldn’t quite comprehend. Softly, he lied her down against the soft linens of her bed and sat at her side, stroking her hair as she cried. Her face was flushed and seeing her in so much emotional pain sent distress into his heart.

 

“You did not kill her little dragon. You didn’t.” He whispered, bending down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.

 

“Jon I d-”

 

“No. The thoughts running around in your mind are not sensical my love, your looking to blame a blameless death on yourself. No one but the gods above can claim this loss.” He told her, voice shaking as the words left him.

 

“Why would the gods do such a thing? Take her from us when we have already loss so much.” She breathed out and Jon sighed, not having an appropriate answer to provide her.

 

“I’m not sure little dragon. The gods have motives far beyond our feeble understanding.” He explained, palm tracing over the soft skin of her cheek.

 

Her breathing grew slower, sobs that had once plagued her body disappearing. An emotion through her violet eyes that Jon could not quite understand. Before he could ponder her feelings out loud, she rose and turned to face him.

 

“The gods took my father from me. Then cursed my mother with death as they blessed me with life. And my brother Viserys, he died protecting me from an assassination when we merely children. How long before another person I love dies in my presence Jon?” She spoke, voice void of emotion and eyes holding a deep sadness that caused tears to burn behind his eyes as he look onto her.

 

His sweet beautiful Dany with all her mischief and liveliness had seemingly vanished in that instant.

 

Jon reached his hand out to grasp one of hers and her gaze shifted from her skirts towards his eyes. His breathing hitched for just a moment as she looked onto him with those doe eyes, the eyes he had grown to love just as much as he loved every other piece of her.

 

“As someone who understands a portion of your loss, I cannot give you the answer you crave. I can’t promise that the people you love will live in prosperity and happiness and will never die. It’s an impossible feat, even for our family.”

 

She laughed at that, a weak melodic sound that eased his spirit.

 

“But I can promise that the people you love will never leave you. Not completely. And our family will never stop growing and you’ll never stop running out of people to love. That feeling will only grow and extend to an immeasurable amount. And some day, during some moments your heart will be so full, you won’t even mind the loss. Because you have the memories.”

 

She stared at him for a moment and Jon hoped she couldn’t see through the doubt in his words. Jon could never guarantee the endless happiness she deserved, he just hoped that someday fate would be kind enough to give it to her.

 

He’d give up his own happiness to ensure she’d find hers if he could.

 

Her gaze never faltered from his own and he tried not to crack under the tenderness of it. Instead, he focused on her other features. Soft splatter of freckles coating her nose and cheeks, they were faint but if you stopped to admire her, you could see them. Crimson cheeks with dried tear stains down them, a stark contrast against the soft silver blonde of her hair.

 

“Thank you Jon.” She breathed out, a small smile spreading across her lips. Her plump, pink and full lips. The color of ripe peaches in the spring, Jon found himself craving peaches. He didn’t think he had ever loved the fruit more than he did in that moment.

 

She moved suddenly, hand slipping from his own only so that she could throw both her arms around him. Delicate limbs around his neck, chin took into the crook of it. He didn’t think before embracing her back. Hands around her waist and he barely noticed the uncomfortability of their position.

 

He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her softness against him. Her hair rubbed against his cheek as she nestled into him, his hands clutching the soft fabric of her dress. She brought ease to his being, the ease he hoped his words had brought her.

 

Minutes later, she pulled away. Not fully though, just enough for him to get a good look at her face and her his. Sometimes her beauty took him by surprise, their family was known for it of course, being the Targaryens they are. An almost inhuman beauty, that’s what people liked to describe them as.

 

But Daenerys beauty, it was all too human. Warm and bright, with imperfections that seemingly only added to her physicality.

 

She was perfection. Beautiful, human perfection.

 

There was a moment, a brief moment where Daenerys eyes bore into his own like she wanted to act on impulse that he’d be lying to say he didn’t feel as well. They were so close, he could feel her breath ghosting on his lips. He could smell the cherries from breakfast on her tongue.

 

Daenerys however, had proven to have stronger self control than he did. She looked away before fully exiting his embrace and Jon didn’t stop her.

 

There was silence, bleak silence that almost consumed them both as their minds registered what had just happened and reeled back into reality.

 

“I heard-” she began only to pause and Jon finally looked at her again, “I heard something about a party. A celebration of her life.”

 

Jon’s eyebrows furrowed for a second before he remembered. “Ah, yes. Elia has sent for the entirety of my mother’s family to help plan this event, as if the Starks are of utmost necessity for this.” He told her bitterly.

 

A gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder, it surprised him but he didn’t waver from it.

 

“If the Stark family is anything like you Jon, I don’t think you have much to fear. I know what they did to your mother but that was decades ago. Isn’t wrong to hold a child accountable for their father’s sins?” She told him, taking him aback.

 

Daenerys had never been in much favor for his mother’s family, why would that change now?

 

“Daenerys that’s not the sa-”

 

“Yes it is Jon. My father, he did terrible things and if people blamed the entire Targaryen house for his sins, I doubt that any of us would be left alive.” She joked but Jon didn’t laugh, just looked away.

 

He didn’t want to admit that she was right about this. Like she had been of most things as of late.

 

“I’m not telling you to forgive them for their sake but for your own.” His gaze flitted back up to her as he took in her words.

 

“I’ve seen the way it weighs down on you. How they make you feel insignificant and small even though you are anything but. Forgive them so that the weight of their rejection can be lifted off your shoulders after all these years.” She finished.

 

Jon turned away once again, eyes focused on his hands as they fidgeted. Mind reasoning with Daenerys’s words.

 

“When did you get so wise little dragon?” He finally breathed out after a beat of silence.

 

He could feel her smug smile even though he wasn’t looking at her.

 

“I don’t know but you helped me through my emotions. I figured it was only right I do the same.”

 

He looked over and smiled at her as she stood from her bed.

 

“Now, I’m sure Elia has a million thoughts of this party and I’d like to spend as much time with her-” she paused and Jon’s smile faltered “As I possibly can.” She told him, trying to sound a bit joyous despite the sadness in her words.  

 

She kissed his cheek, lingering for a second as Jon’s eyes squeezed shut. Within a moment, he felt her presence vanish and when he opened his eyes again.

 

She was gone, just as he suspected. His heart weighed down a bit at the realization.

 

He had felt beat against his chest when she hugged him and kissed his cheek. He dismissed it as anxiety for facing his family in a matter of days and losing Elia. Not Daenerys, she couldn’t have had that effect on him.

 

The little dragon could never make his heartbeat this way.

 

Not now not ever.

 

But even as he thought the words, he wasn’t sure he fully believed them.

 

Daenerys was capable of many things and stirring emotions inside people were among them.

 

His little dragon, she was made for great things. He knew it.

 

No matter what happened, he would always know it. He hoped he would always know her as well.

 

A sinking feeling settled in his stomach at the prospect of losing her like Rhaegar was losing Elia.

 

No, not that.  Tha-That wasn’t an equal comparison. It wasn’t

 

She wasn’t the Elia to his Rhaegar.

 

She was just Daenerys. His little dragon.

 

His Dany.

  
  
  



	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys and Elia discuss winter roses and she and Jon talk in the library before the arrival of their family, both estranged and familiar.

“Winter Roses.” 

 

Daenerys pulled away from the lilacs planted in the gardens and turned to Elia. Confusion etching in her angelic features as her attention shifted to her mother seated at the fountain. It had been a few days since her diagnosis had been revealed to the family, she had spent the majority of the time crying her eyes out. If not crying then with her or Jon, trying to cope with the imminent future without her. 

 

“Winter Roses?” 

 

Elia smiled, looking away from the peas she shucked to the young girl in front of her. She had taken the duty away from one of the kitchen maids, said it brought her a bit of peace. Something to keep her mind and hands busy. She didn’t even seem sick, the disease was only contagious through the transference of human fluids. She had gone into the city and a bleeding peasant girl asked for coin for bread, Elia didn’t even think before handing it to her and unknowingly sealing her fate. 

 

“Yes my child, winter roses. For the celebration.”    
  


Winter roses? Where had she heard th-Lyanna. She had worn a crown of winter roses. Placed on her lap by Rhaegar, beginning the tumultuous affair that gave the world her Jon. That would eventually take his mother from him. That publicly shamed Elia and her children, forever a stain on their reputation. 

 

Why would she ever want those?

 

“Mother is that really the most suitable option for this occasion? Given it’s-” she paused, trying to find the words that wouldn’t upset her, “-it’s history.” 

 

Elia’s smile did not falter, instead she moved her basket of peas to her other side and tapped against the marble of their fountain, a gesture for her join her. Daenerys didn’t hesitate in scooping up the skirt of her dress which was the color of marigolds, her favorite flower, and moving towards her. When she sat down, the beautiful brown skinned woman took her hands in her own.  

 

Elia had to be one of the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. The sun shone down on her generously, making her skin glow and her hair gleam. She was from Dorne, a beautiful kingdom she had only visited once to see Rhaenys on the week of her little cousin’s birth. Elia still dressed as if she had never left, adorned in the finest dornish silks with intricate detailings. Beautiful with a quiet simplicity to them.

 

She didn’t often wear jewels, only the ring Rhaegar gave her and her family sigil carved in silver and amber around her neck. A reminder of the greatness she had come from when she was born in House Martell. Compared to the other highborn women, she was quite modest yet bolder than any of them in her pride.  Daenerys imagined it was hard for her, moving across the sea to marry a man she had never met. To be away from all she had ever known and to start again. 

 

She hoped she’d have that strength one day.

 

Elia was wearing silk as usual, the colors of amber, feet bare and hair loose. She looked happy. And free. 

 

The thought of never seeing her like this again forced her to blink away warm tears that had already begun to form.  

 

“My sweet girl, I very much know the history of Winter Roses. I know what my husband did two decades ago, the ladies here will never let me forget it.” She laughed, light and sweet as if the tale wouldn’t have made anyone else in her place bitter. Dany smiled weakly, running her thumbs soothingly on the back of Elia’s palms. 

 

“What Rhaegar did is over and done. For awhile I hated him for it, there used to be dozens of Winter Rose beds here but I had them all burned and reduced to ash. I couldn’t stand the sight of them. Or your brother for that matter.” 

 

She had heard this story a million times, but never from Elia’s own perspective. She figured it had been too painful for her to speak about. The thought of her hating Rhaegar made Dany’s heart clench, of Elia having to feel the betrayal and hurt of it seeping into her heart. It must’ve been awful.

 

“For such a long time I was bitter and angry. And then Lyanna grew pregnant and she came to our home. No older than you are now.” She smiled at the thought of Jon’s mother. She must’ve been breathtaking, like her son.

 

“And she was beautiful. And good. And I hated her.” Her smile faded and a deep sadness took its place. 

 

“But you had every reason to Elia, she-” 

 

“-was a foolish naive girl, innocent. Her only crime was loving a man who loved her. I was cold to her and Rhaegar as well. Their relationship had stopped, I forbade it in my own home even though Rhaegar and I hadn’t shared affection in years. I was angry at him which is what he deserved but Lyanna...she deserved my forgiveness. More than my husband did. Within four months Rhaegar and I were speaking again, we were open and honest. He was remorseful, wept at my feet after I told him I wanted to return to Dorne with Rhaenys and Aegon.” 

 

She had never that before. She had wanted to leave them? It made sense but now...she was leaving them. For good. 

 

“And we talked and talked for days. Spending time with the children, closer than we had ever been. The scars hadn’t healed but we knew they would. We had started forming a new foundation. Without her.” 

 

Tears Elia didn’t realize were forming fell and Dany squeezed her hands tighter. 

 

“I knew she was lonely, I knew she was scared and I did nothing to ease her. I still resented her for the mistakes I was already forgiving my husband for. I saw her weeping to herself on this very fountain and did nothing. She was completely alone in the world. Her family didn’t return her letters, Rhaegar had tried to ease her only once but it had caused a rift between us. He never did it again. She had stopped eating in her final days. She had grown weak and I did nothing.”

 

Daenerys felt the warmth of a few wet stray tears fall down her own cheeks as she spoke, seeing Elia cry and imagining what Lyanna must’ve felt was overwhelming for the Targaryen girl. 

 

“She had been so full of life-and it was-it was drained from her within these walls. She was weak when Jon came, I hadn’t seen her in weeks. I would go that long without being in her presence but I was there. In the courtyard when it happened. Instinct overcame me and I helped, guided her to the nearest bed, shouted for the nurses and comforted her. I told her everything would be fine. But she was so weak. So broken. It was too late for my kindness. For my forgiveness.” 

 

Tears consumed her face now and Daenerys moved to wipe them away. Elia’s hand coming to hold hers against her cheek. Kissing the inner skin quickly before pulling it away. 

 

“My sweet girl, I remember her smile. I see it everyday in Jon. She smiled at me and listened to me and I held her hand as the nurses told her to push. We connected in that moment and I knew if only I had loved her sooner she would’ve lived. She held Jon in her arms and she smiled even brighter, she had been happier than I had seen her. I saw the flickers of light and life in her eyes in that moment. I knew she loved her son more than she has ever loved herself. She would’ve been a wonderful mother to him.” 

 

“Elia…” Daenerys didn’t know what to say. How would Jon react to something like this?

 

She laughed, watery but warm, too immersed in her own memories to listen to the silver haired girl. 

 

“I thought she would live and that maybe, somehow we could amend what was broken. That she could be happy again with her dear boy. But then...then she handed him to Rhaegar and she squeezed my hand and told me she was sorry and she thanked me for being there despite everything. She apologized and thanked me after everything I had done. I told her it’s what I should’ve done from the beginning and she told me it was alright. That Jaehaerys was here now and everything would be alright. Even after everything, she wanted him to have a Targaryen name. Even after all the pain this family had caused her. She said that since love had the power to create something so beautiful, it could mend something as broken as well.” 

 

Daenerys felt it, the loss of someone she had never known. Lyanna sounded lovely, it would’ve been a privilege to have her in their lives.

 

“Even then, I could see the hope stirring in her. And one moment she was looking at her son in his father’s arms and in the next she was slipping away.” Elia stopped, swallowing a sob that threatened to spill from her.

 

“I remember her grip-her grip dying in my hands and I saw her take her last breath. And I could do nothing as Jon lost the mother who would’ve hung the stars in the skies for him. So I promised myself then and there that I love him for her, that I’d make her up for what I did and give her son the love I couldn’t give her. And I think that I have.” 

 

“You have, more than you will ever know.” Daenerys assured her but Elia smiled, shaking her head. 

 

“I haven’t my dear. I’ve only done what she would’ve done but I know Lyanna would’ve done it better somehow. The point is, I want to honor her and Jon. Without winter roses, I wouldn’t have met her nor would I have him in my life. I want the world to know that in her dying moments, I loved Lyanna like a sister And I love Jon as if he came from my own womb, just as I love you.” She finished, voice raw and tight and Daenerys pulled her into the hug they both so desperately needed.  

 

“I love you Elia.” 

 

“And I love you Daenerys. And I love you.”

 

When she pulled away, she wiped away the tears on her face. 

 

“And Jon. And Lyanna. I want to honor them just as people will honor me. The Starks should know that Lyanna was worthy of being remembered for all her light and goodness and not shamed for the life she brought into the world. That she was more than a rushed act of passion and that she should’ve been loved. That she was loved.” 

 

Daenerys could hear the conviction in her tone, the resentment for the family that had walked away from Jon’s mother as well. Elia’s heart was so full, she admired it.

 

“Then they shall be honored. And they shall be loved.” 

 

Elia smiled at her, “good, now come. The cooks will be needing these peas for supper.” 

 

~~~~

 

“Winter roses? Does she not know th-” 

 

“She knows Jon, believe me she knows more than any of us.”

 

They were in the library, one of the largest rooms of Dragonstone. The sun had set but the fires from the torches and the great fireplace keep the rooms alit. It was her favorite place, full of the mostly untapped knowledge of their ancestors. Valyrian styled with the marble floors and the white stone columns keeping it standing. Thousands of bookcases with scrolls and works that any grand maester would love to get their hands on. Wooden tables carved by her great grandfather Jaehaerys himself, it was a wonder of the world. 

 

Only for her family’s eyes to see. 

 

She had come to look for books on the Doom of Old Valyria in her spare time and Jon of course were looking for more of Alysanne’s journals on the north. Specifically on wilding culture. No matter how much he tried to deny it, he felt a pull to that region. She knew that he’d always wonder of it until he actually discovered it for himself. He was careful, never really talking about his interest in his mother’s home. She wondered if the Starks had welcomed Lyanna if he’d be happier in the north? 

 

They had fallen into easy conversation and she thought he should know of Elia’s plans. Not their entire conversation of course but he should know of her wanting to honor him. Might bring a smile to his face. 

 

“Rhaegar made a fool of her with winter roses. Why would she ever want to have them at her celebration?” 

 

“She says she wants to honor you. And it won’t just be winter roses, she wants lilacs for Rhaenys, buttercups for Aegon, chrysanthemums for her dear brother Oberyn and for me she wants marigolds. I doubt that’s where the list will end. She wants to honor her family, every single one of us in her own sentimental way.” 

 

“But those will be private reminders for us, if people see those flowers they’ll remember the crown of them that brought shame on to two great houses.” He told her as they walked between another pair of dark oak bookcases. 

 

Anger spiral within her veins at his words, she hated when he spoke of what happened like that.

 

“You are not a shame on anyone Jon Snow!” She proclaimed as she spun around to face him, voice like steel as she stared up at her nephew with seething violet eyes. Unbeknownst to the fact that her action had moved her chest so it was pressed against his own. And that they were impossibly close in such a small space. Hidden from the world amongst the aging pages. 

 

“Daenerys, my little dragon, you know your views are biased. To you and everyone within these walls I am not a shame. But to the world to the world I will always be, I am a bastard my love.” 

 

She hit him, hard against the chest as his foolish doubtful words. Unable to contain the burst of frustration at the way he viewed himself. 

 

“No, you’re not. You are Jaehaerys Targaryen of the House Targaryen. The Blood of Old Valyria. A legitimate son of Rhaegar Targaryen. You’ve been legitimate since you were a babe and-” 

 

“And yet it doesn’t stop people from calling me Jon Snow now does it?” 

 

His words took her off guard, it was a name bestowed upon him since he was a child. She just always assumed it was his way of standing out, his own little rebellion.

 

“Do you not like it when I call you that? I didn’t kno-” 

 

Jon’s eyebrows furrowed and his hands instinctively grasped her cheeks gently as the guilt began to spiral within her. His effort to calm her mind before it could leave her hurting. 

 

“No, it’s not you little dragon. It was a name given to me by House Stark in one of the letters I read as a boy. They refused to acknowledge my legitimacy and gave me a name common to bastards in the north. Meant to shame me so I took the name as a boy and made everyone call me that. I thought I could draw strength from it but I think some part of me knew I wanted to never forget what I was to the world around me.”  

 

“Why must you torture yourself like this? You’re no-” 

 

“I know. Yet when you say it, its shameful origins are forgotten. You’ve made it something of importance to me and not some reminder of what a family I’ve never had sees me as. I feel nothing but acceptance when you call me that little dragon.” 

 

She smiled softly at his reassurances. 

 

“Sometimes however when others refer to me as such I-” her delicate hands moved to grip his wrists as he spoke”-I feel less than I am. I was born a bastard and that will never change. No matter how much either one of us want it to. But I can never forget it, it’s helped make me the man I am today.”  

 

“And you are a fine man Snow but you should never feel like an outsider. You should never not feel loved and accepted.” She told him earnestly, big beautiful eyes looking at him as if he belonged amongst the cosmos. Making his heart skip a beat in the way only she could.

 

“And I don’t. Not with you.” 

 

It was barely a whisper but the words held power, they settled within her bones in an instant. Her gaze traveled over his features as the phrase echoed through her mind. 

 

_ Not with you _

 

She made him feel accepted, made him feel loved. Maybe, if she had to leave home with her husband it wouldn’t be so bad if he was by her side. She decided she could make of home of him. 

 

Jon looked one of those heroes from the old fables. The reluctant saviors who swooped stubborn princesses off their feet. She hoped in that moment that she could be the stubborn princess. 

 

With eyes as grey as the pale moon and lips carved by the maiden herself. The gods had fashioned him with care and she wondered if there had ever been someone as beautiful as he. Her gaze lingered on his lips, beautiful and firm like him. The atmosphere had shifted, grew impregnable and much too warm for comfort.

 

She let her hands drop, pulling from his grip completely and turning back to the miscellaneous shelves behind her. Her hand flew to her chest, trying to tame the eradict beating within the cages of her ribs as she quietly tried to regain control of her breathing. And herself. 

 

“Well, that’s...that’s wonderful Snow.” She murmured out, eyes focused on the marble floor beneath her feet. For awhile silence consumed as them both as they dealt with the whirling effects of their interaction.  

 

“I love you little dragon.” the playfulness in his tone warmed her soul and she turned back around with an easy smile on her lips. 

 

“I love you too, my sweet winter rose.” 

 

“Oh that’s what you’re calling me now? Your winter rose?” He questioning, moving to lean against the side of the book case.

 

“Well, you’ve been calling me your little dragon since we were children I should have a name for you by now.” 

 

“Only took you a decade but I suppose later is better than never.” 

 

She scoffed, feigning offense as he smiled. 

  
“Shut up, It’s fitting. Considering the history and without the flora I never would’ve had you in my life.” She said simply, looking away from for just a second to grab one of the scrolls with a valyrian seal behind her. Unopened and possibly brewing with new information on the city her family came from. 

 

When she turned back to face him, he was staring at her. Smile gone and replaced with a look that would leave any other girl breathless. That left her breathless. 

 

“You’re too good for this world Dany.” He mumbled suddenly, taking her off guard for the second time in that hour. 

 

She laughed nervously, looking down at the floor, “you always say that.” 

 

He did, usually after she had done something stupid or when her naivety had gotten the best of her.

 

“And I mean it. You should never forget that.” 

 

She felt her stomach drop, the playfulness in his tone long gone. When her gaze lifted back to him, she couldn’t help but take in his beauty. He was dressed in leathers, he had gone out into town with Rhaegar and had yet to completely strip himself from those clothes. Both his jerkin and cotton shirt were loose. She could see some of the exposed skin of his chest. Leather breeches clinging to his thighs just enough to outline the shape without suffocating them. His hair tied loosely in a bun, beard patchy and untamed in all dark glory. The only thing wasn’t black was his billowy shirt and brown leather boots she had picked out. 

 

He was perfect, absolutely perfect. 

 

“I-um-do you want to know why else Winter Rose a is fitting name for you.” She said, gaze faltering slightly as his lingered. 

 

“Why?” 

 

“Because, you’re just as beautiful. If not more so.”  She answered honestly, daring to look back at him. She watched as an emotion she couldn’t place slipped across his face before it was gone in an instant, she could already see the brooding begin to consume him. 

 

“Dany-”

 

“I’m going to go bed now. The Starks should be here in the morning as well as Rhaenys and Aegon. Rumor has it she wants it to be a masquerade ball, I think it’d be fun to dress up and pretend to be anyone but ourselves. Don’t you my rose?” 

 

He stared at her and she felt like one of the books the maesters in the Citadel studied religiously under his gaze. Like he was inspecting each and every one parts, like he could read her completely. There was no hiding from Jon.

 

“I do. Anyone but ourselves, it’s a wonderful notion.” He murmured, standing to his full height. He walked towards her and Daenerys tried to ignore the drumming of her heart as he did so.He placed his hand under her chin and brought his lips to her forehead. Her eyes flitted close, the scroll tumbling to the ground as it slipped from her fingertips. He lingered, leaving a burning sensation on her skin before pulling away. 

 

“Goodnight little dragon.” 

 

Her eyes flitted open when he pulled his hand away, turning his back to her and leaving her there in small space hidden in the book cases. She watched his figure retreat until she heard the library doors shut behind him. 

 

All at once, the breaths she didn’t even realize had left her flooded through her lungs. Her breathing was an uneven and ragged and her knees buckled. Sending her delicate frame to the ground where she placed her fingers both over her chest and forehead. Tracing where his lips had been lightly, where she could still feel his kiss seared into her skin. Her other hand tried to calm her heart, wanting the effects of him to fade on her body but the feeling of it to never leave her mind. 

 

She doesn’t know how or when their relationship changed but they had. And now he had an effect her that no one else possibly could. Whatever this feeling this was, this immoral feeling, it shouldn’t have been there. The gods above would call her a dirty sinner for even entertaining the temptation. Yet being in his presence, she couldn’t help but crave his touch on instinct and the affect it left on her body shouldn’t have been as strong as it was.  

 

Being with him was beginning to become a dangerous task for her weak lover’s heart to endure. He didn’t feel the same, not as she did. She was his little dragon after all, a babe in his eyes who is sworn to protect by blood. He didn’t see her as someone he could fall into. He didn’t look in her eyes and see a thousand different world and futures where the two of them were intertwined as lovers. He didn’t look at her body as if he could hold close against his own. Feel her flesh against his flesh in the most innate way possible. He didn’t look at her body at all, not like that.

 

It was a foolish notion to entertain, him feeling what she felt. But she did and she was a fool for doing so.

 

But here as she stood, in the dark of her family library tracing over the invisible mark he had left on her. Hoping that the next time, he’d be brave enough to leave it on her lips instead. It was unlikely, an impossible dream for Jon and Daenerys. 

 

But was it impossible for those who were anyone but themselves. 

  
  
  



End file.
